The Blame Game
by Chrys-DASL
Summary: When Kate's library book goes missing, she immediately thinks DW took it. Jane demands a cleaning session but begs Kate to keep an open mind. Who ends up being right? For my 10x10 Challenge/NaNo2018


Kate (3): lost something (1)

_The Blame Game_

It was gone. I had checked out a library book for school, and now that I was done with it and ready to turn it in, I couldn't find it. I checked my book bag, my book shelf—I checked everywhere on my side of the room, but I couldn't find it. I went downstairs and checked the den, then the dining room, but there was only DW's crap. I was so worried I checked the van, but all I found were candy wrappers and a leftover sandwich.

Mom caught me coming in from the garage, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, Missy. What's going on?"

"I lost my library book. I think someone took it," I said firmly. That was the only option right now. I had looked everywhere else, so someone, probably DW, probably took the book.

Mom shook her head, "DW would never take your book—"

"How do you know that? Either way, if it ended up on her side of the room, we'll never find it!" I hissed back. That was the whole reason we did sides. DW was a Grade A slob and didn't know what the word "clean" meant. She was always worried about boys and makeup, makeup and boys. If one of the boys she liked knew what her room looked like, they would run the other way. Her friends would too.

Mom sighed, "I'm not doing this so early. Go," she pointed, gesturing me upstairs. We barged into my room, where DW was putting her face together while talking on the phone. Mom knocked loudly on the door, "Phone off, give me your undivided attention!" she bellowed.

"Ugh, I'll call you back, Emily," DW said, turning to Mom with only half her face done up. She looked like a monster as she looked Mom over, "What?!" she spat.

"You have until nine o'clock tonight to clean this room up. You will come home right after school and get ALL this put back together," Mom declared, circling her hand over DW's side of the room.

"That is SO unfair! Make Kate clean her side too!" DW yelled.

Mom looked over to my side of the room. She cocked her shoulder up, "Do your laundry a day early please, and reorganize those shelves. If it ends up on your side of the room, you're grounded for two weeks, understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am—"

DW's cackling interrupted us, "Oh, all this over a BOOK? Why would I have a BOOK on my side of the room?!"

"Because it's an absolute disaster area and things happen. Clean it up," Mom demanded, checking her watch, "Hurry up or you'll be late. I'm not driving you to school."

I grabbed my book bag and headed out the door as DW got back on the phone. I could hear Mom yell at her as I left the house, but I didn't care at all. I wanted to get to school early to check my locker just in case. When it didn't end up there, I went to the school's library and asked if any books had been turned in that really belonged to the city's library. She couldn't tell me because they usually just shipped those over, so I used a computer to log into my account with the library—the book still had CHECKED OUT beside it with red letters DUE TODAY BY 11:59:59 next to it.

I groaned as the bell rang, rushing to my class. I asked every teacher throughout the day if they had any library books, but none did. I even asked the front office, the gym teachers, and the cafeteria staff, but no one had seen a book. I asked my friends, but none of them remembered me having it at all. We had to read the book outside of class, so I never had it at school, or at least out. It was in my bag so we could discuss it in English class, but that was it.

So I took the long way home, asking Carl at the Sugar Bowl if he had any lost books. He gave me a cool pen that someone left, but no one else had turned anything in. I found the parks department building, but they too would've just turned the book into the library. I went by the library and renewed the book to avoid late fees, and then I went home…only to find it empty of my siblings. DW was probably out chatting with friends instead of cleaning.

I tracked down Mom on my way back from the laundry room, "I've started my laundry. Have you seen DW?" I asked.

Mom groaned, "Look, I don't have time for this right now. Look wherever, and if she comes home, I'll direct her upstairs. I meant what I told her so she will be punished, but…I can't. I have deadlines—"

"Okay, okay," I said, sensing an incoming rant. I went to the living room, the dining room, and even the kitchen on my search, but I found nothing. Arthur's room was still locked while he was away, so I decided to go into the backyard and call my friends to see if I could search their house. I'd only been over to two of them, and neither had seen any books.

Feeling defeated, I looked up how much it would cost to replace the book. It was more than I had at the moment, so I needed to do chores to earn the money. Dad came home, so I asked him about jobs to do that weekend. He wanted me to mow the lawn and weed the garden for ten bucks, and I agreed to do it. I hated mowing the grass, but if I was going to have to replace the book, I needed to have the money for it.

DW returned at dinner and set off a nuclear war. Mom told her off and sent her upstairs without dinner. I stayed and helped with dishes before searching the living room one last time. Dad helped me move the couch, but all we found were two quarters and a button from Mom's sweater.

Dad sighed, "I'm sorry you lost your book, but if it's not upstairs—"

"I know. I asked around everywhere today, and I renewed the book so I wouldn't owe late fees. I'll pay to have the book replaced, then I'll apologize to DW for calling her out on her sloppiness," I said firmly, looking up as DW appeared with a heaping basket of laundry.

Dad groaned, "See, this is why the washing machine breaks! You overload it—"

Dad helped her drag the basket into the laundry room and gave her an impromptu lesson on how to do laundry (again. They taught me when I was seven, and that was a long time ago). I went upstairs and put on headphones so I could do my homework. DW returned and kept yelling at me until Mom yelled back and made her stop. I ignored both of them so I could get through my trig homework, then I read from my history textbook to study for an upcoming quiz.

DW cleaned and cleaned, but by nine o'clock, there was still trash and stinky laundry hanging around. Mom told her she had until Sunday to clean it up or she was taking drastic measures, whatever that meant. I put away my homework and got ready to bed, all while DW yelled at me from her room, at least until Dad made her stop. I ignored her, going to bed and pulling the covers over my head. DW stayed up another hour yabbering on the phone with somebody—she's so obnoxious.

The next morning, I went to school like always. My friends asked about the book, but I had admitted defeat. They nodded apologetically but didn't say much else. I didn't blame them. It wasn't their problem. This was my situation, and it was up to me to get out of it.

After school, I came home to find DW there getting the vacuum. I stayed downstairs having a snack and reading my science homework while she worked. After ten minutes, she clogged the hose and yelled for help. Dad appeared from the garage and went up to help.

Twenty minutes and a lot of yelling later, Dad appeared with a gnarly set of panty hose for the trash…and my book.

"Where was it?!" I gasped, hugging it to my chest.

"Great, now I have to do the lawn—"

"No, no, I said I'd do it and I will, but where was it?" I asked.

"Under her bed, way under her bed," David said, looking back as a meek DW appeared on the stairs:

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you'd take control or whatever, so my bad—"

"YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE?!" Mom screamed from the living room, rushing in so fast it was like a tornado had descended on the house.

The reaction was catastrophic, with Mom yelling so loud I saw the neighbors across the street peering out to see what was going on. Dad and I ended up in the garage to avoid the showdown. I might've been the catalyst, but this was DW's situation, not mine.

When Dad's work was done and the house seemed quiet, he looked up to me, "Do you think it's safe?"

"For now," I shrugged, standing up and stretching, "I'm glad Mom knows I wasn't just being paranoid now. She does that all the time."

"Yeah, boys are much easier," he winked, punching my arm gently, "You mean it about the lawn, right? I really don't want to do it this week."

"Eh, it'll be fun," I smiled, leading the way inside. Mom and DW were on opposite ends of the house, but things were back to normal again, or at least as normal as they could be with a wild DW in the house.

~End

A/N: 21 of 100 for my 10x10 Challenge. I'm doing the challenge for NaNo2018, but I would love for others to participate with me (no you don't have to do it in a month like some crazy girl we know). PM me with any questions, and let me know if you start so I can read your responses.


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